


static change

by painting



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 18:58:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13060143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painting/pseuds/painting
Summary: A technokinetic struggles with allergies.





	static change

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SergeantAtArms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SergeantAtArms/gifts).



> another part to my secret santa gift for sergeantatarms!

" _Aaaah'ISHHh_ ** _YEW_** _!_ Oh my god, no, no, no, no, _no_ …"

Miranda impetuously shook the device she'd been holding, willing the sparks coming out of it to vanish in hopes that she hadn't fried any of the hardware. It wasn't too hot to the touch, even after being handled for nearly half an hour as she tried to figure out how to extract its data for use by a newer machine. 

Normally, a task like that wouldn't be much of a problem or take more than a couple minutes, tops. The fact that it was an older piece of equipment that she hadn't met before certainly made the assignment a bit more complicated. But that wasn't the reason it was taking her such a long time. 

The collection of materials dropped off to her that morning were coated in only served as a reminder that the supernatural connection Miranda had with technology unfortunately applied to her body in addition to her mind. Her nose, it seemed, was no exception. 

Fortunately, that time, everything seemed to be in tact. 

The box of what Miranda considered to be antiques — pieces of tech from decades ago — had been delivered with a coating of more dust and grime that Miranda had ever seen on an appliance before. She was surprised that some of them still worked, puffs of dust and other debris billowing out through the metal vents every time a breeze blew by. She couldn't tell if she was having an allergic reaction or an appropriate bodily response to what she knew were millions of tiny floating _itchy_ —

" _Huh'_ ** _AAH_** _ESSHHoo!_ "

A couple more sparks flew, but Miranda knew from the vibrations in her veins that she hadn't lost any information with that one, either. She'd gone from holding them back to holding them in to giving up and simply trying to leave the room every time she had to sneeze, but now they were starting to sneak up on her and that made the whole situation massively more difficult. Each sneeze did little to scratch the itch buzzing inside of her face, offering relief for just a split second before she started gearing up for the next one.

It seemed to be giving her enough warning, though she felt her chest stutter as she pushed her chair back with her feet and stood up to leave.

" _Ah'HH—!_ "

The right side of her face burned, desperate for release.

_Just one more second, just one more second, just give me one more…_

Miranda's hand was on the doorknob when she reached the point of no return, her lungs filling involuntarily with a vocalized inhale. With one foot out the door, she gasped again and hastily slammed it shut behind her.

" _Hh'_ ** _HAHT_** _'EHSHH'_ ** _OOH!_** " That one hadn't done anything to help, and she didn't even have enough time to smooth her hair back before a second sneeze took hold. " _Huhh'TSSHHH'_ ** _UH_** _!_ _'TSSSHH_ ' _AH!_ "

And a third, apparently.

The lights above her flickered each time, but Miranda had been too preoccupied to do anything to stop it. The lobby of her workspace was thankfully very sparse, and the temporary power surge seemed to be the only effect of her allergic outbursts.

She was just in the throes of a delayed fourth when Lynelle turned the corner and greeted her with an emphatic, "Bless you!"

" ** _EHT_** _ISSCHh'yew!_ Thank you, god, excuse me, was I very loud?"

"Yeah!" Lynelle confirmed pleasantly, just before bounding over to where Miranda was standing. "Bless you _again_ , are you okay?"

"Thank you, I…" Miranda sniffled, unimpressed with the way her voice was starting to sound. "I'm just alle _hh… hih!_ " She waited a second, but the feeling retreated from an urgent tickle to a dormant buzz. " _Allergic_ to something I'm working with right now, that's all."

Lynelle patted Miranda on the arm and said, "Oh no! I saw that your powers act up when you sneeze, is that dangerous?"

"Yeah, sorta." Miranda smiled sheepishly and sniffled again, which turned out to be a bad move. "Sorry, just a…"

Her traitorous nose didn't seem to want to quit, nor did it wait for her to finish off her warning. Miranda turned away into her forearm, bending double as she sneezed again.

" _Ah'_ ** _HEH_** _ISSHHh'ah!_ Ex _cuse_ me."

Sneezing in front of Lynelle, who was new at the station and had always been incredibly sweet to Miranda, wasn't really preferrable. Miranda was one of the few people working there who possessed any kind of supernatural ability, and for someone who'd barely seen that part of her to already bare witness to Miranda losing control of them felt premature and inappropriate and — well, most of all, embarrassing, if she was being honest. That was the part that bothered her the most.

"You're working with the antique case, right? That's what's giving you so much trouble?" Lynelle asked.

"I… Yeah," Miranda said. She felt her cheeks heat up.

"Okay! So how about I take over for today? I don't have any allergies and then you can take a break and, like, not worry about destroying any of the stuff we're repairing."

Lynelle was good at her job, despite learning all about tech the old-fashioned, analogue way, and it wasn't unusual for engineers to trade projects. Still, Miranda hesitated.

"I couldn't ask you to do that," she said.

"But _I'm_ asking _you_ to give it to me!" Lynelle corrected. "You know that some of that stuff might have audio recordings of, like, really old mafia activity?"

"Where did you hear that?"

"Oh, just around."

Miranda had been too distracted to actually read what was on any of the tapes, telepathically or not, so she couldn't confirm the rumor.

Lynelle chewed on the inside of her cheek and looked toward the ceiling. "Well, anyway! Whatever's on there, I want to be the first to hear it. You'd be doing _me_ a favor."

Unsure of whether Lynelle was offering in such a way that she was helping Miranda save face — maybe she really was that perceptive — or if she simply was dying to work on those old devices, Miranda gave in.

"Okay," she said, smiling, playing along with the game. "But that means you owe me one."

Once all was said and done, Lynelle spun back into the office and traded Miranda the dustiest crate in the world for a box of tissues.


End file.
